


Indulgences

by pringlesaremydivision



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 21:03:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1563971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pringlesaremydivision/pseuds/pringlesaremydivision
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> It wasn’t often that he had time to bake, so when he did, he allowed for indulgences he otherwise denied himself.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indulgences

**Author's Note:**

> Part of Story-a-Day May. Unbeta'd, just trying to write more!
> 
> PS: The cake Mycroft is making is [this one](http://smittenkitchen.com/blog/2011/09/red-wine-chocolate-cake/), from Smitten Kitchen. I haven’t made it, but it looks delicious and fudgy and decadent, and just like something Mycroft would make himself for a treat once a year or so.

Mycroft stood in the kitchen, feet bare, shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. With the oven preheated, it was pleasantly warm despite the lashing rain outside. He shifted a glance at his laptop, and began. First: creaming the butter and sugars together. The whir of the electric mixer brought back memories of Mummy, of baking together on Sunday mornings, when he was Mike or Mikey, not Mycroft, stiff and formal. He understood the need for emotional reticence, but still - it grew tiring, sometimes.

Once the mixture was light and fluffy, Mycroft added the egg yolk, vanilla, and red wine. He’d deliberated over which wine to add, deciding finally on a bottle that Detective Inspector Lestrade, of all people, had gifted him the past Christmas. Recalling the bright white flash of the DI’s smile, Mycroft felt his face heat up. Surely it meant nothing - the gift or the smile. Lestrade was like that, kind and generous. Nothing more than that.

Still, though, Mycroft wondered if he could coax another smile out of Gregory Lestrade.

Shaking his head at his ridiculousness, Mycroft glanced at his laptop again, scanning the recipe on the screen. He sifted together the dry ingredients, then mixed everything together, pleased when the batter came together with a rich, reddish-brown hue. It wasn’t often that he had time to bake, so when he did, he allowed for indulgences he otherwise denied himself.

Hm.

He put the cake in the oven, setting the timer for twenty-five minutes, then pulled out his mobile, staring thoughtfully at the screen for a moment. Taking a deep breath, he pulled up his contacts list and scrolled down to the ‘L’s.

A ring, two, three, and Mycroft was just about to hang up when a rough voice answered. “H’lo?”

"Detective Inspector Lestrade, this is Mycroft Holmes. I’m terribly sorry if I’ve caught you at a bad time, I only wondered - that is, the wine you gave me on Christmas, if you remember - it’s just, I’ve made a cake with it, and I thought, perhaps, if you were interested, you might enjoy - but of course, you have other plans, I’m sure." Mycroft wanted to sink into the floor. He could fix elections in South Korea and outwit criminal masterminds, but this, apparently, reduced him to a babbling idiot.

There was a low chuckle from the other end. “Mycroft. Are you inviting me over for cake?”

Mycroft groaned internally. What a fool he’d been, to even think that Gregory Lestrade, handsome and tan, confident and capable, would want anything to do with -

"Because I’d love that, but I don’t actually know where you live." Gregory’s voice was low and teasing, and Mycroft couldn’t help the relieved breath that escaped in a huff.

"I’d be delighted to send - actually, I’d be delighted to pick you up, if you wouldn’t mind waiting until the cake is out of the oven, or I could -"

Gregory cut him off. “Just tell me your address, and I’ll be right over.” There was such warmth in his tone that Mycroft felt dizzy with it for a moment.

"Certainly." He rattled it off, and then added, hesitantly, "I - I look forward to seeing you."

"Same here, Mycroft," said Gregory, gently, and ended the call.

Mycroft set the phone down and set about tidying the kitchen, resolutely ignoring the smile that felt like it was about to split his face in half. Indulgences, indeed.


End file.
